Reflections, Happiness, Memory

The Lovely Ladies at Daku Balay. Last time self saw them, their uniforms were brown. Self thinks blue is much more flattering.

The living room of the Daku Balay. The house was transformed into offices several decades ago.

The wall facing the main driveway is curved, and has a row of thin, rectangular windows.

This house has seen so many things. Self remembers the time two older cousins, Elenita and Pat, were teenagers there — she remembers being enthralled by them, by their record collections and by the boys that came regularly to visit.

She also remembers a room just to the right of the side entrance, that reminded her of an aquarium: it seemed constantly bathed in diffuse blue light. Her Tito Anong and his wife, Tita Alice, lived in this room and were already invalids by the time self got to know them.

Self realizes she forgot to do the one thing she had intended to do, when she went to the Daku Balay this morning: she wanted to look at the basement. It’s very deep and dank and the lower level is filled with shallow, stagnant water. When she was a child, it used to give her such a thrill to imagine the secret, nefarious activities she was sure had taken place there.